


Sitting on Boxes

by epkitty



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fireworks, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-03
Updated: 2011-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:53:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epkitty/pseuds/epkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When we know the end is coming, we all go a little mad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitting on Boxes

Galadriel cleared her throat. She never did do ‘subtle’ very well.

Not with her husband, anyway.

Celeborn, in the midst of some daydream, jerked to attention, his head slipping off the hand he had braced it on, which jarred the elbow that rested on the table, which knocked over the ink bottle, which sent streams of gooey blackness over his paperwork. “Um, yes?” he asked.

“It’s Haldir,” she said.

“What now?” he asked. It was dark already, and he didn’t fancy cavorting about the forest. He was damned tired. Immortality weighs on a person, you know.

“He’s out in the eastfield.”

“. . . doing what?”

“Sitting on a box.”

“. . . doing what?”

“Just sitting.”

“Oh.”

= = = = =

‘Insanity plagues only the weak.’ That had been a mantra of Celeborn’s. A few thousand years previously. He’d changed it somewhere along the line to, ‘Insanity strikes where least expected.’ Within the past year, he’d updated it yet again: ‘Everyone goes nuts, eventually.’

The calling of the Sea had been affecting the Elves of the Golden Wood in different ways. He and Galadriel had grown apart over the years, and now, it was as if he didn’t know her. He himself had grown fatigued and distracted. Some became solemn, others energized and nervous. You could never tell how the Call would affect an Elf.

With Haldir . . . well. He’d gone a bit batty. Some called him ‘maniacal’ but Celeborn’s personal favorite was ‘unhinged.’ Rumil came up with that one, and the Lord thought it suited the situation.

He plodded unhappily through the forest toward the eastfield where, sure enough, the bright moon and stars illuminated a distant figure.

Celeborn frowned at his robes gathering up the dew as he walked. He stopped short before his warden. “Haldir. What are you doing?”

Haldir grinned. That was NOT a normal expression. Not for him. “Waiting for you.”

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t.”

Celeborn’s frown deepened. “What’s in the box?”

“What box?”

“The one you’re sitting on.”

“Oh that!” Haldir grinned some more. He paused, for dramatic effect perhaps. “Leftovers.”

Celeborn’s frown migrated to his eyebrows, which scrunched up inscrutably. Aside from the specifics, this was something he’d gone through with Haldir about once a week for the past three months. “What sort of leftovers?”

“From Mithrandir.”

“I hadn’t realized he’d left anything behind in his travels in our wood.”

Haldir’s grin softened into a saner smile. He stood and pried off the lid, one-handed. Nestled there in the straw were--

“Fireworks,” Celeborn remarked. He just couldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Yup.” Haldir dug through, came up with one in each hand, and started walking. “Come on!” he called over his shoulder.

“Oh dear.”

Celeborn followed, though reluctantly.

In little time at all, they’d stabbed the lot of them into the ground, more than a dozen, all in a line. Haldir stood ready with a candle and a flint lighter. “Ready to celebrate?”

Nonplussed, Celeborn blinked. “Celebrate what?”

“Eh, whatever.”

Celeborn did not find this encouraging.

Haldir, mayhap sympathetic to Celeborn’s confusion, decided to elaborate. “Going West. Finally. Being alive. Still. After all this time. Celebrate life.”

“Aren’t there better to ways to celebrate life?”

Haldir’s eyebrows rose hopefully. “Was that an insinuation?”

“No. I meant drinking.”

“Oh.” Severely disappointed, Haldir took several seconds to light the candle. Once the spark took to the wick, the yellow flame illuminated his face from below, giving him a rather ominous look. The odd angle emphasized the sorrow that had hitherto been hidden in his expression amongst the hope and madness. He knelt, without his usual grace, to light the first firework.

The pair of Elves backed quickly away, watching the jumping spark race up the tail until it took off with a whoosh. BANG! It exploded far above them in a fanning tree of green and gold that wouldn’t die out for many minutes.

Celeborn’s heart raced at the explosion and leapt with delight at the display of lights above him.

Haldir grinned again. He bent over and in quick succession lit all of the fireworks.

They ran even further back this time, craning their necks to watch as birds and beasts and amazing displays of light filled the sky above them, blotting out the stars and the darkness with purple and silver and red and blue and gold and green.

Without warning, Celeborn was tackled. He landed on his back, on the ground, Haldir’s form above him silhouetted by a chorus of sparkling songbirds that whizzed and snapped above them, so bright that Celeborn could not read Haldir’s shadowed face. He reached up to cradle the warrior’s head, fingers sifting through fine-spun hair.

“Is it all right?” Haldir whispered against his lips.

One of the fire-sparkling songbirds flitted about their heads, brushing the tips of the grass. Haldir’s pale eyes were far from mad. He just looked sad, a little lost, and a little hopeful.

“Yes, yes it’s all right.”

But Haldir did not kiss him, as Celeborn had thought he would. Instead, the warden draped himself over the body beneath him, relaxing all his muscles and resting his silver head in the crook of Celeborn’s neck.

The Lord shifted his hands, so that he clasped Haldir loosely about the middle, looking to the fire-lit sky above. Even though the dew was wet all along his back and Haldir was a bit heavy and he couldn’t see the future, Celeborn found himself smiling. “Yes. It’s all right, now.”

= = = = =

The end.


End file.
